


The Train Ride

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Nochnoy Dozor | Night Watch (Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-20
Updated: 2007-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 03:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1628801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It could have been different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Train Ride

**Author's Note:**

> I got part of the idea for the story from Pelevin's story, Yellow Arrow. 
> 
> Written for stealthmuffin

 

 

The saying goes, you can't escape your fate. And when Anton quietly shuts the door as he leaves the old witch, he thinks, "It wasn't meant to be". He does not notice the team of electricians fixing a light bulb. Does not notice the car outside. He feels strange, as if something is missing. He checks his wallet and his keys. They are in his pockets, where he left them.

On the way home, he meets the most beautiful girl in the world. He is sure he has seen her somewhere before. But this is just one way it could have ended.

* * *

Imagine a train going to Samarqand from Moscow. Such a train doesn't exist, of course, and the closest one can get is a train from Moscow to Tashkent.

In the dim light of a cramped train compartment, let us imagine a man of undetermined age, dressed in a sharp suit, with a bright red and white checkered shirt. His shoulders are hunched, as if under an impossibly heavy weight and his expression is one of permanently calm sadness.

Across from him sits a young man in his early thirties, wearing a bright green shirt. This man looks quite ordinary, except for the strange amulet tied around his neck.

Both men are drinking and have been drinking for some time. It is a very long journey - over two days if nothing delays the train. There are always delays.

"Do you know, Antosha, I think that color rather suits you."

"Fuck off."

"Such language. What if there were ladies present?"

The younger man, whom we shall call Anton, doesn't reply. He stares silently out of the window at forgotten outposts and the poor countryside. Through the gloom, he sees mountains washed in blood. He pours himself another drink.

Oblivious to Anton's behavior, the man continues the conversation. "Strange, isn't it?"

No reply.

"I say, strange isn't it, how an Other with no capability beyond the average became the catalyst for the end of the world."

"You don't think that. None of you thinks that. Not Gesser, not Olga. I was an excuse."

Zavulon, who has now taken of his suit jacket, smiles unpleasantly and takes Anton's drink.

"You would rather we left you alone. You didn't want anything to happen. You would rather not know."  
"I... You made a mistake. One of you... You or Gesser or Olga... you made a mistake in calculations. Everything turned out wrong."

Zavulon smirks. "You talk about us as if we have one agenda. You do remember that we are on opposite sides, don't you, Antosha."

"You're all the same! You and Gesser, you think you can do whatever you want! You mess around with people's lives as it suits you."

This time Zavulon remained silent. Anton pulled a cigarette out of his shirt pocket.

"Smoking is bad for you, you know."

"So is making deals with the devil, yet here I am."

"Antosha. Dramatic as always."

Anton doesn't reply. And Zavulon doesn't bother to read his thoughts. He knows what Anton is thinking.

There are lines of probability. It's one of the first things they teach you when you join Night Watch. The butterfly effect. Every single line is connected to another.

In every tale, there is always one man who loves his family too much. One who will sacrifice everything for the sake of those he loves. It doesn't matter how strong this man is. What matters is the place he holds in the heart of those who surround him. Those who are much stronger than he is.

There are no definite lines of probability for Anton. His fate is tied up with Svetlana's. With Yegor's. Strand by strand his future moves out into infinity. It is possible that Gesser made a mistake in calculations. But then again, Gesser has been alive for a very long time.

"You're very quiet, Anton."

"You said you can fix it. You can put everything back the way it was."

Zavulon looks at him with pity. Even though Anton knows, the dark Other has felt no pity for any living soul for more than a hundred years. Outside, the night crawls closer, settling around the speeding train. The conductor comes by to offer tea and fresh bed sheets. They shoo her out.

"You can't escape your fate," Anton says into the window, pouring himself more cognac.

"Surely, you, of all people, don't believe in fate."

"No. I keep playing your game. I keep losing."

"You think Gesser bet on you to lose."

"He knew about the chalk...."

Gesser knew about the legend of Tamerlan, a fierce warrior who wanted to conquer to the world. To change the past and with it change the future. But with each alteration comes new responsibility. You can only change your own fate, but what if your fate is tied up with the fate of millions.

What if everything was as simple as saying no instead of yes?

"You'll strain something."

"Fuck off."

"We're getting closer now and you still haven't told me what you wanted."

"... I thought it would be different..."

Things were supposed to be different. He married Svetlana and they had a daughter. He was never initiated. Neither was Svetlana. But their daughter became a powerful dark witch. One wrong step... Everything came undone. The balance was shifted.

"Why are you helping me?"

Zavulon looks at the window. He hesitates before answering. "You're right, Antosha. We're not so different. We understand each other. The balance exists for a reason. You think you are doing the right thing when in fact you're doing what you want to do. And we... we do what we want."

"Of course. Good and evil are man-made concepts," Anton mutters sarcastically.

"You disagree?"

Does he? Anton doesn't know. He has followed Gesser. Followed Svetlana. Yegor. He did what he thought was right. What he thought was best for them. And it all came to naught. He could not win, but perhaps he could lose more gracefully. If there was ever the right moment to change something, this was it.

* * *

In a dingy apartment in Moscow, Anton wakes up. It is evening. He has to find a vampire.

 


End file.
